


Roots.

by ciscoramons



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gen, Money, Origin for flashpoint!cisco, cause yall know they aint gonna give him one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 19:03:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7695769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ciscoramons/pseuds/ciscoramons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cisco Ramon is the richest man in America.</p>
<p>It wasn’t always that way.</p>
<p>Everyone has their roots.</p>
<p>
  <i> It was the summer of 2012. Cisco Ramon bounced on the heels of his feet outside the looming building(so tall to his short form, or to anyone, really), hair tied into a messy bun, buttoned shirt tight on his chest due to the strap that hung lazily across it; Cisco clutched to it as though it were an anchor.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“This is it,” The young engineer introspected. “This is it. You’re at S.T.A.R. labs, Ramon. You worked your ass off for this and you know it. Don’t blow it.” </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roots.

It was the summer of 2012. Cisco Ramon bounced on the heels of his feet outside the looming building(so tall to his short form, or to anyone, really), hair tied into a messy bun, buttoned shirt tight on his chest due to the strap that hung lazily across it; Cisco clutched to it as though it were an anchor.

“This is it,” The young engineer introspected. “This is it. You’re at S.T.A.R. labs, Ramon. You worked your ass off for this and you know it. Don’t blow it.”

And he didn’t. He smashed his first day, coming out with more friends in six hours than he’d ever made in the past six years. Practically everyone at the labs fell over themselves to snatch a piece of Francisco Ramon. (Besides one person. A long soul who chided about how this was a mere honeymoon period.)

It was the autumn of 2012. Cisco Ramon sat besides Harrison Wells, owner of S.T.A.R. Labs, the secondly mentioned person looking to Cisco with an excited glint in his eye.

“My boy, I think we’ll finally do it. The Particle Accelerator.” The elder enthused, pen in hand flying over stematics and working outs that the labs had pondered over for months.

It took one look for Cisco to tsk and shake his head. “I don’t think so. I mean, look…” The pair fell over themselves for the rest of the night, looking, testing, theorising. Harrison Wells decided against the accelerator.

It’s the spring of 2013. S.T.A.R. Labs is thriving despite their ever growing struggle with money. They have more employees than ever. Harrison Wells fawned over the second late bill of the month as Cisco stared and stared at the big red lettering.

“Wells…” The engineer started, reaching out and taking the hovering pen from the elder’s hand. “We’ll get out of th--”

“I don’t know, son. It’s a lot of money. Tess and I--”

“I know, Wells. But I’ll help. We can do this, right?”

A small, soft, sad smile graced Harrison’s lips. “I don’t think I have enough time to gather this much money in the time I have.”

Unaware of the double meaning, Cisco decided right then and there that he would do anything to drag the labs from the crippling power of overhanging money.

It’s the winter of 2014. A year, boderline two, have passed since Cisco told himself he would save the labs. There’s barely any change, anything that was scraped together barely inching into the debt they had. Cisco sat to the side of Harrison’s (death) bed, a loose grip on a cold hand; unshed tears glistening in eyes.

“Cisco,” Harrison began; it’s a lever, and Cisco’s closing his eyes. This isn’t happening. He can’t have failed. “I-” The words are cut off by a cough. “I want you to carry on… after me.”

A thick swallow before: “I can’t. Wells-- I can’t. What if I mess up? I can’t--”

“You’re incredibly clever, Cisco.” Wells informed through a breathy laugh. “And I’ve grown to be quite fond of you. And in many ways, you have shown Tess and I what it’s like to have a… son.”

That was the night Cisco sold his first business deal. And the night Harrison Wells died.

It’s the spring of 2015. Cisco Ramon just got offered a second business deal. It’s been three months since Harrison Wells passed, and three months since Cisco made his first deal. Since sealing the mentioned deal, the labs became 10% less in debt. It was better than nothing, Cisco reasoned.

“With this, we take fifty percent of the profit of the labs.”

Cisco sat in a meeting, angry men in suits all around. “We already give ten--”

“You need us.”

That was the day Cisco sealed his second deal.

It’s the summer of 2015. Sweat and ice cream was a prominent smell within the labs. If it could be called that anymore. Businesses paid in, and the labs easily paid out. They thrived. Within both elements; work and money.

There were no wrongs in Cisco’s eyes. (To the employees, those that were left, there were more wrongs than rights. They were in constant threat of losing everything, the last time they actually did anything remotely sciencey was months ago, and Mr. Ramon(a name they had to use) was an ass.)

It’s the autumn of 2015. The labs is now a standalone industry. Run purely by Cisco. Many employees quit, the rest were fired. Money that would have funded anything ran straight into Cisco’s account. The labs was no longer in debt. (There were no more labs.) Cisco Ramon had succeeded. He, and therefore the labs, were the richest things in America.

It’s the spring of 2016. Barry Allen hurls his way into the labs halfway through a business meeting. Cisco realises something he should of a long time ago.

The labs died along with Wells.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! It'd be totally awesome if you left a comment on what you think!
> 
> Find me on:
> 
> Tumblr: [ ciscopramon ](http://ciscopramon.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Twitter: [ ClSCORAMON ](https://twitter.com/ClSCORAMON/)


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